You May Kiss the Bride
by Sentomegami
Summary: PostAWE. Two men share a bottle of rum, a stolen harmonica, and the reasons behind the shared women in their lives. Follows after Pegs of the Instrument WillElizabeth with a touch of lingering Norribeth


_So when you go_

_I'll follow the poppies_

_That grow as kelp and flowers_

_Over our bridal bed…_

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**You May Kiss the Bride**

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About two or three weeks into his captainship of the _Flying Dutchman_, William Turner is interrupted by a sharp (in both voices and weapons involved) commotion among his crew. He breaks up the squabble easily enough because, well, it wasn't much of a squabble to begin with, not when the offender was dancing circles around the defendant, sticking holes into the other's boots with the tip of a very well-balanced Brown-Turner sword.

"Will you stop that?" Will snaps at the slightly inebriated ghost sitting next to him.

"Stop what?" James Norrington responds in an innocent tone that doesn't match his amused face at all.

"That!" Will points to the harmonica-like instrument Norrington had liberated from the unfortunate crew member. "It's bad enough you stole it from Mister Heckle, but at least learn how to play it before you start blasting everyone's ears out!"

"I am quite able to play it," his companion says in an indignant huff. "The instrument is unfortunately out of tune."

"Then tune it later when no one is around to be disturbed. I can't have a mass of migraines impairing my ship!" _Or myself_, Will adds mentally.

Part of Will still balks at the idea of having to reprimand Norrington, the ghost of a man who had once mentored and guided him. Even back then, though, Norrington's stiff reputation had seemed to belie some sort of cover-up, and the men of the Navy who had served with Norrington for a long while had always seemed to share secretive glances whenever someone praised the young upstart's composure. The other part of Will, the part that he is beginning to define as the pirate within him, has come to the conclusion that Norrington probably never was all that conventional to begin with and, most likely, has been this way for a good long while.

Nevertheless, Norrington stops his experimentations and leans back against the ship's railing, stuffing the harmonica into the pocket of his naval coat. With a sigh of relief, Will raises their rum bottle (Bootstrap got it somewhere; Will doesn't question where because who is he to question his rum-supplying pirate of a father in the first place?) to his lips and takes a loud smack of the acid-sweet contents.

"I'd still rather some good bourbon," Norrington waxes poetic, staring up at the evening sky. "I find rum to be too deceptive of a drink."

Will throws his head back and gargles a mouthful of the stuff just to irritate his equally irritating companion. Swallowing the mouthful with a loud, smacking gulp, he gives Norrington's slightly disgusted face a full-toothed grin, making a great point of letting some of his rum dribble out the side of his mouth.

"Yummy," he comments, smacking his lips like Cotton used to before spitting on someone.

"That," Norrington says in a completely sober voice, "is utterly insipid behavior and should constitute a mutiny from any sane man."

Will sticks his tongue out at Norrington, only realizing too late he must look something like Jack in maturity. He slurps his tongue back into his mouth, smacking the residue of rum off his lips; bully be to maturity. Anyways, he has nothing to worry about. His second mate is already tooting along on his new instrument again.

"I never thought you to be a very sane man," Will says in a conversational tone. "You did, after all, fall in love with Elizabeth."

It's the first time that Will hears Norrington laugh. It's a surprised, shocked sort of laugh, and he has to look over to make sure that it's actually the former admiral making that sound. Even the man himself seems surprised, blinking as he laughs like a fish shocked out of water.

"Yes, yes," he chuckles, recovering himself, "I guess we did. Sweet little thing but one siren of a puppet master, hm?"

Will nods, not too sure if he wants to follow Norrington's line of thinking, because, well, he has come to the conclusion the former admiral probably is just as crazy as everyone thought he was not back in Port Royale. Luckily, Norrington takes that moment to blow a piercing note on his harmonica, grab their bottle from Will's hand, and make a toast to the starry sky.

"But, whatever she may be, my mistress is always as free as the sea to roam and love! I am a man, William Turner, and gladly a slave to any beautiful swan that floats these waters."

And so James Norrington gives Will his blessing to the Turner's marriage.


End file.
